How Soon is Now
by Disco Cult Madness
Summary: Draco reflects on his life just before he became intertwined with Harry. Bad summary, better story. Oneshot song fic, sixth year, slash HPDM, a bit OOC.


**How Soon is Now  
**_By Disco Cult Madness

* * *

_

  
Summary: Draco reflects on his life just before he became intertwined with Harry. Bad summary, better story. One-shot song fic, sixth year, slash (HP/DM), a bit OOC. 

Disclaimer: Characters not mine. Lyrics not mine (they belong to The Smiths, who rock)

Warning: Slash! Boy love. Nothing too graphic or nasty, just some kissing.

Author's Note: First fic, so be kind! I would love reviews. I may write more stories if people think this one is any good.

* * *

_I am the son  
__I am the heir  
__Of a shyness that is criminally vulgar

* * *

_

I used to be so ignorant. I played the part of the fool, and I did it well. Everything fell at my feet, and I believed it to be the power of money. The all mighty galleon! And if my father held dark company? He was just dabbling in all social aspects of the wizard kingdom in order to sustain his foothold. I believed intimidation was the key to my success. We were wealthy and feared because people fear the power money can buy. I went about my ways, completely oblivious to the reality that lay deep within my father's twisted lies. I thought I was god.

It wasn't until my sixth year that it all became clear. Funny how you can hate someone so much, and in the end, they turn around and save you. I was in the Astronomy Tower, reading by candlelight when he came. The tower was a common retreat for me. Long nights in the Slytherin dungeons were murder. My bed was between Crabbe and Goyle's; both notorious for their deafening snoring. The room was also damp, especially in the winter. The Astronomy Tower was much more pleasant, and often I would rest there and return to my room before the others awoke. It was so much more calming than sleeping in the bowels of the castle. This particular night, I wasn't alone in my escapades. The door flung open with a furious force. I knocked my candle over as I jumped to my feet. My heart pounded in my ears as I gazed upon the dark figure in the doorway.

His voice had been calm, steady, collected. He told me to calm myself, and entered the room with a flash of light. We shared a common love of the theatrics. I picked up the candle and closed my book. Our eyes met, and in an instant, I dropped my gaze to the floor. I loathed him. With every ounce of my being I tried to will him away. To be alone again! He stepped towards me, and I stepped back. With every move he made, I would do the opposite. When he spoke, I said nothing. When he fell silent, I would scream. We argued about nothing at all. Stupid rivalries and pent up anger. He looked at me with an expression I had never seen before. Compassion?

"Oh Draco, who are you?" He murmured.

* * *

_I am the son and heir  
Of nothing in particular

* * *

_

It was then I realized he knew something. He knew something about me that I needed to know. I questioned him, and he just smiled at me. That gorgeous, all-knowing smile. It made me sick, but it made me light. I felt like I was floating in a red haze. He sat on the floor and beckoned me to do the same. He spoke of things I had never dreamed of. Evil. Deceit. Death. These things he told me meant so little. I was in no position to be harmed by them. But he saw me for what I truly was. I was an ignorant child. My father was evil from the core outwards, and everything I had been brought up to believe was the product of his warped view. Of course I was incredulous. My father was no Death Eater! He was guilty by association. The way he was described by my loathsome companion was as if he were some monster. I would not hear it. Lucius Malfoy was an upstanding man, with the purebred values that were severely lacking in the rest of modern day wizardom. So I didn't believe him.

The year went on. I did not meet my tormentor alone again before winter, though we did have classes together. Whenever his eyes caught mine, I could tell he was studying me. He wanted to know if I'd accepted his truth. At the time, I hadn't. I was definitely more aware, however. When I returned to the manor for Christmas break, I watched my father carefully. I had always respected him. He was so graceful and elegant. I wanted to model myself after him. My idol was no servant of death. During the break however, he was distant, almost cold. I had never known my father to be cold, especially to me. I thought I had made him proud. I felt as if I had somehow failed him when he shooed me to make for company, when he glided past me in the halls as if I were not there, and when he refused to let me brush his platinum tresses like I had done almost every night.

I became skeptical. Having lived in the manor my whole life, I knew its secrets from years of childhood exploration. The last time he scolded me for trying to impart myself upon his company, I crept through second corridor hidden behind the room where father was meeting his group. The corridor was unfinished, and I doubted any other than myself and the house elves knew of its existence. It was cold and uncomfortable, but it gave me perfect, undetected access to my father's plans. I listened, and I listened, and I listened.

And I wept.

* * *

_Oh shut your mouth  
How can you say  
I go about things the wrong way?

* * *

_

Everything at once was upon me, and I was ill. All strength I felt was gone, and I slinked back to my bedroom. I did not appear for dinner, nor did I bother to meet my father for our nightly walk through the gardens. He had deceived me. The epitome of my hatred had shown me the light. The golden boy. At that moment, I felt more anger towards the brunette than I had ever felt in my life. This was his fault! He set me up to hear the horrors that I bore witness to. He knew it would happen, and he was enjoying it. The more I thought this, the more and more angry I became. I threw the belongings I needed to return to Hogwarts in a bag and slept. I left the following day, announcing to my parents that I needed to return early in order to work on an assignment that could only be completed at the building. It was the first thing I could think of, and thankfully, they believed me.

Once back at school, I tried to hide from everyone. There were only a handful of students, but I couldn't bear to speak to any of them. On my first night back, as I made my way down to the Slytherin dungeons to sleep, I was cornered. Two strong arms shoved me against the wall. I gasped, startled as he pinned me, his torso crushing mine. He ran a stray finger down my cheek. Tears welled in my eyes.

"Daddy Death Eater." He hissed against my ear, raising every hair on my body.

"You were right." I whispered. "He wants to kill me."

He looked taken aback.

"A pureblood of my age must die in order for the Dark Lord to maintain control of his body. My father volunteered me." I couldn't look at him. With closed eyes and clenched teeth, I asked, "Why?"

"Why what, darling Draco?" Purring so close to my ears I could feel his lips graze my flesh.

"Why would you tell me this?"

"Isn't it obvious?" He stepped backwards, letting me free. "I'm a hero."

He was gone almost immediately, leaving me fuming. I raked my fingernails down my neck and under the collar of my robes, trying to relieve the burning malice in my veins.

* * *

_I am Human and I need to be loved  
Just like everybody else does

* * *

_

When I saw him next, he was swapping lukewarm banter with that blasted Weasley. They sat across from each other in the library. I took my seat near a window and pulled out a book the Potions master had suggested I investigate. I tried to ignore the Gryffindor boys, but it was as if they grew louder intentionally to unnerve me. My name was mentioned more than once in a negative context by the hideous red head. This did not bother me. What caused my blood to rush was how my tormentor laughed at the snide remarks. Did he really think me a useless git? I could not comprehend how he could justify treating me like a china doll, then turn and drop me. I stared at him, a mix of emotions stirring within me. I was furious, but I also felt betrayed.

I threw my book to the side and stormed out of the library. I couldn't listen to that boy talk ill off me anymore. It was hard enough coming to terms with the fact that I had been alerted of my father's plans of filicide by this brunette shadow, but to then be insulted…

His hands were suddenly upon me again. He grasped at my shoulders, pulling me to him. His arms proceeded to wrap around my waist. In spite of myself, I let my head roll backwards and lean on his shoulder. I inhaled deeply the vanilla musk he wore, trying to concentrate on the lovely scent as opposed to the tears that threatened to fall from my eyes. He let out a soft chuckle as he held me close to him. The warmth of his body sent almost pleasant shivers down my spine.

"Are you upset, little dragon?"

I shook my head in disagreement. I would not admit defeat again.

"Come, come now. You don't really believe I could let Ron know about this." His words were warm against my neck.

I could barely speak, my voice seemingly crawling further and further away from my throat, but I managed to ask, "What is this, exactly?"

"So many questions. Always so many questions." He pulled a loose strand of my hair and tucked it behind my ear. "We're a lot more similar than you think."

I did not ask another question, but simply let him hold me. They were not my father's arms, but I supposed they were close enough. My rival obviously cared more for me then that bastard ever would. The feeling of mixed loathing and gratitude was confusing at the least. I wanted to turn and attack, but I also wanted to be held. I deserved it.

* * *

_There's a club, if you'd like to go  
You could meet somebody who really loves you

* * *

_

The cold days melted away to make room for a mild spring. Classes re-commenced much to my dismay. I was doing well in all my subjects, but it was a chore nonetheless. As the re-opening of Quidditch season approached, I was training almost every evening. My team doubted me greatly. They had every right to, as I doubted myself greatly. I did not possess the right skills to be a good seeker. I trained and I trained until my body was exhausted just to become a mediocre one. Our first match was to be against the Gryffindor team. I dreaded this. Their seeker was incredible. I would never admit it out loud, but I was jealous of his talent. Our head of house arranged for the pitch to be used by the Slytherin team in order to prepare me for our upcoming match. I knew that no matter how I tried, I would not be able to do what was required of me. Somehow, the rest of the team had decided that it was possible to beat the Gryffindors; I just wasn't trying hard enough.

Game day came, and I was so fearful, I had not been able to sleep the previous night. The spectators came decked in their house colours, rooting for their home team. The game began. I couldn't be bothered to pay attention to what was happening around me. I was so focused on finding the snitch first. Three times I barely dodged a rogue bludger, and in turn, three times I was scolded by my teammates to pay attention. Finally, a flash of gold whizzed by me and turned upwards towards the sky. I quickly glanced at my rival. He was still searching for the prize I had just found. I started off after it on my broom. My knuckles began to turn white as my grip increased on the broomstick. The angle I was flying at was too vertical, but it matched that of the snitch, so I had to risk it. Soon, I could hear the brunette behind me, gaining speed. I would not let him win. I inched forward on my broom, reaching with one hand towards the snitch. It was still too far from my grasp, so I inched forward again. My head was swimming as I drove deeper and deeper up into the atmosphere. The Gryffindor was almost at my shoulder, so I took a last minute lunge at the snitch. My hands grasped wildly at the air.

I thought I had control of my broom, but as I stretched to reach the snitch, it shifted beneath me. In an instant, it wasn't there anymore, and I was plummeting. There was a dead scream lodged in my throat. All I could do was flail my arms and hope to Merlin that I slipped into unconsciousness before I hit the ground. As I drew nearer and nearer to the earth, I could hear the screams of the spectators. I was going to hit, and I was going to hit hard. I could not cry, I could not breath, I could not yell. I closed my eyes and prepared myself for the pain. But instead of feeling my body hit the field, I felt myself pushed forward. It felt like a wall thrusting forward to hit me, but as I opened my eyes, I saw the Gryffindor seeker. He had grabbed me with one arm. He fumbled the broomstick and we both fell off the broom and dropped the short remaining distance to the ground. We tumbled over each other until I lay on top of him, staring into those deep green eyes. He gave me a lopsided smile, which I returned gladly. I could hardly contain my joy. I opened my palm above his face and revealed the golden snitch, buzzing frantically. He laughed and winked at me, and I knew then I would meet him again that night.

But it didn't matter. I had won. My teammates came and grabbed me, holding me above their heads, chanting my name. Flags of green and silver waved exuberantly from the stands. I was completely overjoyed. I had won!

* * *

_So you go, and you stand on your own  
And you leave on your own  
And you go home, and you cry  
And you want to die

* * *

_

That night I returned the Astronomy Tower, knowing that my green-eyed predator would be there. Sure enough, he was laying on the dusty desk at the front of the room, waiting for me. His robes hung loosely over him, showing the subtle curve to his body. He pulled them to place and rose, standing at his full height. I walked over to him, feeling very proud. He smirked at me. I stood in front of him, my breath quickening. There were no words spoken, for no words were needed. He grabbed me and threw me onto the desk, then proceeded to straddle my hips, looming over me like a god. So many thoughts and feelings ran through my mind. I pushed them all aside, wanting nothing more than for him to kiss me. He ducked his head down to my neck, causing me to writhe underneath him. I could hear him chuckling as he blew small circles of air over my neck. I let out a small whine, frustrated at his games. The sensation of wisps of breath only increased my desire to fell his soft lips against mine.

As if he read my mind, he looked up at me and bit his lip. The intoxicating scent of his vanilla musk drove me wild. He gazed at me, scanning every inch of my face. Gently, so very gently, he placed his lips on mine. I breathed a sigh of relief as he kissed me. Little sharp kisses until I was numb. I pulled him down to lay on top of me as he continued to kiss me. The feeling was incredible. With each kiss, he became more and more passionate. My head swam. His hands trailed lower until they grasped the top button of my uniform shirt. As he undid it, I gasped. My senses came about me and I pushed him off of me. I looked at him, sitting there on the floor, grinning like he owned the world. No words. I ran to my dorm, the taste of his feverish kisses still lingering on my lips.

He didn't follow me, nor did I expect him to. I couldn't explain why I ran, or why I wanted his touch so badly in the first place. This was the boy I'd spent the previous five years keeping my distance from. Everything I'd done to him, everything he'd done to me. The worst memory of all was my most recent. During the previous year, I'd stepped too far over the line when insulting him after a Quidditch match. The force with which he had continually hit me was astounding. The hatred he must have felt at that moment must have equaled what I was feeling as I lay in my bed with my fingers pressed atop my lips. Did he think I was a whore? Did he want to use me and be rid of me like every other person in my life? I liked to feel sorry for myself then.

* * *

_When you say it's gonna happen "now" __  
__Well, when exactly do you mean?

* * *

_

Within the following weeks, I finally brought up the issue of my father with my head of house, who arranged a meeting with the headmaster. The three of us sat together, sipping tea the headmaster made for us. Each sip was a different burst of flavour than the last. I explained what I had heard and what my father had planned. The reaction I received was far less than I had expected. There was no pity. There was certainly no comfort. In fact, the prats didn't even want me to stay in the same room as them while they discussed my situation! The headmaster told me to finish my tea and take my leave. I did so with a huff of arrogance. I had every right to hear that conversation and find out what they planned (if anything) to do for my protection. Was I supposed to sit back and think everything alright? I'm a Malfoy. Of course that would never happen.

So I brooded and brooded outside the headmaster's office, but when it became apparent that no one was coming down for me, I left. It was past dinner, and I had missed my meal. I never function well on an empty stomach, so I took it upon myself to fetch a makeshift dinner. It was easy to slip into the kitchen. Never before had I tried, but I had always assumed the kitchens would be near impossible for students to enter. On the contrary, the house elves seemed used to having stray students and at once set to preparing me something to eat. I did know whether to be disgusted or flattered by the impish creatures. I took the neutral way of not caring and sat down on the floor. The stones that made up the ground radiated heat. The Hogwarts kitchen is one of bustle and good nature, unlike the cold slave pit that is the Malfoy Manor kitchen. A timid little female house elf covered in several patches of different tea towels brought me a warm bowl of soup and a fresh roll. I ate my supper contentedly, freeing my mind of all thoughts.

The double doors of the kitchens flung open again. Despite myself, I scrambled away and hid behind a cluster of barrels in the corner. I felt quite foolish, and contemplated removing myself from behind the casks, but decided I would feel more foolish revealing myself to the strangers than simply remaining in hiding. There were two male voices. One of them, the one of my brunette, I recognized immediately. He was everywhere I dared to be. However, he was not alone, and it took me quite some time to recognize the second voice.

"Get the house elves to fix you some damn porridge if you want it so badly!" My green-eyed heathen chided.

"They'll never make it the way me mam makes it."

Seamus Finnigan. I had self-appointed him the whiniest Gryffindor years prior. Every second word from his mouth was "mam" or worse, "mamsy". I had a great dislike for the boy. It could not match the dislike I possessed for a certain golden boy, who at that moment was giggling flirtatiously with the other boy. Something bit inside me. It was jealousy. I was jealous of the way his hands touched Seamus's shoulder. I was jealous that they got along so well. I was jealous when, after what seemed like hours, Seamus closed his eyes and tried to kiss my Gryffindor. I vowed to make my rival my prize. I hated him, I loathed him, and I downright despised him. But he was beautiful, pure, and would be mine. He pushed Seamus away, shaking his head and apologizing. He would be mine.

* * *

_See I've already waited too long __  
__And all my hope is gone

* * *

_

We constantly met in the halls, however briefly. I constantly fought the sickening urge to strike him when he ignored me. He did not seem interested in cornering me in the dark or giving me cryptic messages any more. I felt abandoned and worried that he despised me once more. I had gained so much ground without even meaning to, and now, at the time where I was ready to accept who I was and who I loved, he was disgusted with me. The last months of school were closing, and I had done every subtle thing in my power to make him mine. To feel those kisses on me again...I would have given the world! But fate is fickle, and she seemed to have other plans for me. I did not want to give up, though with each passing day, I felt any remaining hope drain out from underneath me. I did not feel good enough for love. Worry replaced anger. I feared he had found another, moved on, and forgotten about our encounter.

He made me feel as if the world was slowly disintegrating around my feet.

It was the final week before exams, our Potions assignment was a mild truth serum. It was below our level, but the Potions master explained it was all we had time for. We were instructed to find partners. I sat in my seat, waiting for everyone else to choose a partner. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone take the seat next to me and begin to open their books. The nerve! I turned to snap and my presumptuous partner and came face to face with

"Potter!" My voice was constricted and unbelieving.

His returned smile frightened me. It was an emotionless smile that refused to reach his eyes. Those green orbs lacked the sparkle that had drawn me to them. He was just a tired, worn out child. Like me.

We brewed out potion and each took a deep drink of it. The serum would force the consumer to answer any yes or no question truthfully. The Potions master instructed us to practice asking our partners questions, and then at the end of the lesson, he would go around the class and ask his own questions. I looked at my partner. He wasted no time in beginning to question me.

"Do you believe Voldemort is back?" He demanded.

"Yes." I replied without hesitation. "That first night in the tower, when you told me of my father...Did you know I was going to be there?"

"Yes." His eyes were hard an unforgiving. "Does that worry you?"

"No. Do you have feelings for Seamus?"

"No! Did you want me to kiss you?"

"Yes. Did you want to kiss me?"

"Yes."

I could feel my temperature rise. The questions became more and more heated, faster and faster. We were almost yelling at each other, and once or twice, I caught an angry glare from the Potions master who was attempting to question other students.

"Draco?" My partner waved his hand at me, trying to regain my attention.

"Right, sorry." I bit my lip. "Would you ever abandon me?"

This time, his smile was genuine, reverberating throughout his entire face. "No."

"Harry?" He nodded at me, and I dropped my eyes to the floor. I flushed terribly and asked the one question I most needed to have answered. "Do you love me?"

He leaned in close to me and whispered, "Yes."

* * *

_Oh shut your mouth __  
__How can you say __  
__I go about things the wrong way?

* * *

_

And that's how it all began. It was confusing and awkward at first, but we began to become more in tune with one another. I now reside with my godfather, the Potions master, waiting for what is to become of the dark army and more importantly, my father. We have taken the utmost precautions to make sure my where-abouts is unknown to all but those who the headmaster has trusted. My one love, as well as the members of some order my godfather is a member of all know where I am, and I am not allowed out without a watch party. It's exasperating. However, my love suffers the same punishment. We are so alike in so many ways.

Now, as I write this, he sleeps next to me. He must return to his aunt and uncle's house in the morning. He gave me a journal to keep my thoughts in, and what better way to fill the first pages than with the story of my one true love? I'm not ashamed to admit it now. I'm not afraid of him any more. I want the world to know.

I love Harry Potter!

* * *

_I am Human and I need to be loved __  
__Just like everybody else does

* * *

_

A/N: So...that was it. I hope it was alright! I may try more one shots or even a chaptered fic if this wasn't too horrible :)


End file.
